


An Informative Book

by Mimi_Lind



Series: Mimi's Middle-earth Tales [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Elves, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fourth Age, Humor, Marriage of Convenience, Mild Smut, One Shot, Post-War, Romance, Wedding Night, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27117418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimi_Lind/pseuds/Mimi_Lind
Summary: It is time for Legolas’ and Víriel’s wedding night, but neither of them has any experience about how to perform the physical act. Thankfully, they have received a particularly helpful gift from the Haradrim ambassador.
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Mimi's Middle-earth Tales [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979356
Comments: 18
Kudos: 31





	An Informative Book

_Ithilien, 4th Age_

For some reason, Víriel found herself focusing on the presents more than anything else during the night of her wedding. They were already piled so high on the table under the young linden that they reached its lowest branches, but still the queue of guests waiting to add to their number stretched long. Prince Legolas was popular.

Most of the gifts were hidden in elegant boxes or wrapped in colourful cloth, decorated with flowers and pretty bows. Would they open them tonight or tomorrow? Víriel had forgotten to ask her father what the Greenwood practice was and did not want to do it now, not when the many guests watched her every move. 

Some of the gifts were unwrapped for everyone to see, such as the large, jewelled ceremonial axe Legolas’ dwarf friend had given them, or the potted Mallorn seedling from one of her uncles, but most curious was the leatherbound book the Haradrim ambassador had brought. She noticed that the cover illustration was rather strange – the persons wore no clothes and looked like they were wrestling. If it pictured what she thought, it was rather scandalous – and interesting.

Before she could look closer, she felt the prince take her arm – her husband, she must call him husband now, although it would take some time to get used to – and she turned to him with a polite smile. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked. His smile was polite too, the same he had worn on the few occasions they had met during their year of courtship. Being always chaperoned, they had never gotten past the small talk on those visits. 

“I am fine. The cake was very rich.”

He nodded and turned away again. She took the opportunity to admire his golden braids in the twilight; the Greenwood elves used a different pattern than the one prefered back home in Lothlórien. There, most males would comb part of their hair in front of their ears, but Legolas wore his braided back. It suited him. She liked the length of his hair as well, its blonde strands reaching a bit past his shoulders. 

Feeling her eyes on him, he met her gaze. His polite expression waned and she read something new in his blue eyes. Curiosity. Interest. Perhaps he wondered what she was looking at, or maybe he was thinking of their bedding later? She sure did.

Her heart beat faster in anticipation and she broke eye contact. Víriel’s married friends had hinted it was a pleasant procedure, and it would be interesting to try something new; at her age there were not many novel experiences left to be had. After his adventures with the Fellowship she guessed he might feel the same. He was younger than her, but not much, and both of them were well past their five hundredth year. 

She tried to glance at him from under her lashes so he would not notice, but unfortunately he just did the same. Their eyes darted apart like they had been scorched. Valar, this was awkward.

“It is getting late,” said Legolas. 

“It is,” she agreed.

“Are you tired?”

“A little.”

“Perhaps time to… retire?” His slight hesitation betrayed his nerves. 

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. Taking his outstretched arm, she walked at his side toward the newly constructed flet upon which their house was built, high above in an enormous oak. If others saw them go they pretended not to, as was the custom. Their guests would stay, keep eating, drinking and dancing under the stars until late. 

When they reached the stairs that wound their way around the thick tree trunk, Legolas took Víriel’s hand. His was large and calloused, and felt strong. It made her feel safe. Her husband was a warrior, he could protect her from anything. 

Hand in hand they ascended. Víriel’s mouth became dry and butterflies fluttered in her gut. How could she be affected so much by this? It was embarrassing. She had always prided herself in being level-headed and calm, an elf others turned to when in need of counsel, but this was worse than her first hunt, even worse than that time she had been chased by orcs.

Sure, she was about to do something entirely unfamiliar, something surrounded by a large measure of mystery, and with an elf she did not know very well. Perhaps that was reason enough to be skittish. 

Well, she knew _of_ him at least, and her knowledge was all in his favor; he was kind and very polite, brave and honourable, loved by his friends – a hero who had helped defeat the Dark Lord Sauron not long ago. He was handsome too, tall and fair like a male version of her former ruler Galadriel. She was sure he would be a good husband, and that she would fall in love with him eventually.

They were inside the house now. It consisted of a single, large room with many windows, and with their shutters closed it was almost too dark to see even for an elf. Legolas fumbled with a lantern and managed to light it at the third try. His fingers were trembling. 

Thank the Valar, someone had kindly put a basket of fruit and a flagon of wine on the bedside table – Víriel was not quite ready to look at the bed itself yet, instead she hurriedly began to pour the ruby liquid in two glasses.

“Only a half, thank you,” said Legolas. At her surprised look he blushed. Yes, the famous warrior actually blushed! “I do not want my mind fuddled, when...“ He broke off. 

She nodded. “That makes sense,” she admitted, pouring a half to herself also. Their fingers touched when she gave him his glass.

“To many happy years,” he said, raising it.

“To a pleasant night,” she countered, trying to lighten the tense mood. It worked, he smiled as he sipped his wine, and not that polite smile from their courtship either. This contained a hint of mischief she found very attractive.

She glanced at the bed and squared her shoulders. Determined, she went to sit on it and Legolas sat a few feet beside her. 

They sipped the rest of their wine in silence, probably both trying to think of something suitable to say, but failing. How did you introduce the topic of bedding in a natural way? She peered at him again under her lashes and saw his eyes were on her. This time she met them and there was an intensity to his gaze that spoke to her without words. 

She edged a little bit closer and he did the same. They were not quite touching. Feeling brave, she reached out to take his now empty glass, and gave his fingers a light caress in passing. 

When she had put their glasses back on the bedside table he took her hand between his and brought it to his lips. His kiss felt cool on her skin and his eyes never left hers. They no longer looked blue, the pupils were so large they seemed black. She wondered if her own eyes looked like that too. 

His gaze dropped to her lips, and he bent forward. Their first kiss was very soft, and very brief. He pulled back to look at her as if assessing her reaction. Smiling encouragingly, she leaned against him and their second kiss was much longer. 

When he broke it, Víriel felt her insecurity return. She disliked not knowing what would happen next and suddenly wished she had questioned her friends more about it. Perhaps she could ask Legolas? He had seen the world, travelled far with the Fellowship, he probably knew much more about these things.

“Could you explain a bit how this is done?” The moment the question left her lips she regretted it and her face heated up in embarrassment. He must think she was an imbecile.

He did not reply however, and when she stole a glance his way he looked extremely uncomfortable. She suddenly understood.

“You do not know either?”

“Uh. Not… quite.” 

“Oh.”

They just had to try and figure it out, then. Only… she really did not like to be unprepared. Had this been about anything else, she would have read up on it before, learned the basics, but… Then a thought struck her. That book! The wedding gift.

“Legolas, do you think the guests are still down there?”

“Probably. Why?”

“There was this book, the Haradrim man’s gift. It looked like… well, a book about such things.”

Legolas brightened at the news. “I will fetch it.” 

She stayed in the doorway to look at her husband as he jumped on silent feet from tree to tree, until he was perching in the young linden directly above the heap of presents. Nobody noticed when he stretched down to palm one of them – any guests who had not fallen asleep from too much wine were busy in the dance circle some way off. 

When he came back, his cheeks were pink, whether from excitement or exertion she could not tell, but the color suited him. She realized she wanted him to kiss her again, and maybe he read that in her gaze, because he bent down to capture her lips a third time.

Then they sat side by side on the bed and read together. 

It was a _very_ informative book. 

When they had finished, the room had gone very quiet, and this time Víriel did not even dare to glance at Legolas. 

“Hrm. I had no idea there were so many kinds of embraces,” he said at last.

“Me neither. Many kinds of kisses too.”

“Mm.”

“What if… What if we begin by working our way through the embraces, and then go for the kisses?”

“The idea has merit,” he agreed. “And then…”

“Aye.”

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

Víriel had not expected to enjoy herself so much this night as she had done so far. All the climbing over one another had made them warm, and both had dressed down, Legolas to shirt and hose and Víriel to her long chemise. She felt completely at ease with him now, the stiffness and awkwardness from before long gone.

Some of the embraces had been a bit acrobatic, but they were agile, and trying to assume the described poses had caused much amusement. They were going through the kisses now, and those really were lovely. 

“Which is your favorite so far?” she asked, leaning back on the bed to catch her breath after a very lengthy kiss called the Battling of Tongues.

“They are all very good, I cannot decide.” He stretched out beside her, leisurely twirling a strand of her dark hair around his fingers.

“Shall we try…,” she bent over the book, peering in the weak light, “...Kissing the Ear?”

“Sure.”

“I go first.” She climbed on top of him, resting her weight on her elbows. At the first touch of her lips to his ear, he drew in a sharp breath of air and his hands involuntarily came up to rest on her hips. 

“You liked it?”

“Aye. Do not stop.” He moved his head to the side to grant her easier access.

She followed the edge of his ear with her tongue, and nibbled its tip lightly. He groaned. Still holding her hips, he pressed her down against the lower part of his body. She felt herself respond with a need to come even closer, if that were possible – and according to the book, it was. 

“Let me try now.” He sounded out of breath. Rolling her over on her back, he settled himself over her, and soon his warm breath tickled her neck, sending shivers down her spine. His lips and tongue were burning hot against her sensitive ear and she felt an ache between her legs. Just like he had done on her before, she moved her hands up to his hips, enjoying the feel of well-defined muscle under her palms. 

His lips left her ear and found her mouth again. Víriel forgot all about the instructions in the book as their lips and tongues created their own variant of kiss, deep and needy. She buried her fingers in his soft hair and it fell over her face. His scent was fresh, earthen, like the forest itself. 

Sliding her other hand under his shirt, she explored his back, making throaty sounds of pleasure against his mouth as she delighted in the explosion of sensations through all her senses. 

There was too much fabric between them. She needed to touch all of him, every inch of his gloriously silky skin. When she tugged at his shirt, he let go of her lips long enough to pull it over his head and toss it away, and then helped her do the same with her chemise. 

She wore nothing underneath, and he breathed out in awe at the sight of her naked body. “Beautiful… absolutely gorgeous.” He touched the curve of her breast, and as if on a whim, bent down to kiss it.

“Ah! Do that again.”

He happily obeyed, fondling her soft flesh with his fingers and tongue.

She wanted to see the rest of him as well, and eased his hose and underpants down. He rose to shake them off, standing nude before her, his frame glowing amber in the lamplight. She had never beheld anything more exquisite. His body was tall as a young tree, lithe and strong, flawless as an ancient Númenorian statue. He was perfect. 

Legolas returned to lay between her legs, a question in his eyes. He needed not ask, she wanted him without delay, and arched her back to meet him. When they slowly joined she felt whole.

They moved in unison, no longer needing the book to tell them how. This was pure instinct, just as two wild creatures mating in the woods knew what to do. A jubilant happiness surged through Víriel, a song flowing through her veins with every quick heartbeat. 

In their hearts they forged another union, the bonding of their souls. They were becoming truly one, husband and wife, forever linked together.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

“More wine?” Droplets of perspiration covered Legolas’ broad chest, and his normally so neat braids were ruffled. It made him look deliciously decadent.

“Aye. Thank you.”

They sipped their drinks, both still in awe over the intensity of their experience. 

“We completely forgot the book,” Víriel remarked, biting her lip to hold back a laugh.

“I do not think we actually needed it.” He smiled. What an amazing smile he had! It lit up his entire face and made his large eyes sparkle.

“Nay. It was not that difficult,” she agreed. “Still, the book was a good icebreaker. I am glad you fetched it.”

He picked it up from where it had fallen to the floor, idly turning the pages. 

“Are you tired?” His eyes were still on the book.

“Nay. Why?”

“I was just thinking… this ‘Mûmakil in Heat’ position seems interesting.”

“Let me see.” She edged closer. “Aye. It does.” 

“Have I told you I shot a mûmakil once? This time I would like to _spear_ one.” 

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

When the sun rose the next day, Víriel and Legolas lay fast asleep in each other’s arms, exhausted. On the bedside table, the pages of the book had small marks, indicating each had been tested. Some pages had several marks.

It really had been a very informative book!

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously a completely different take on Legolas than in my multi-chapter story Horse Lady of Rohan. But the informative book is mentioned there as well. ;)


End file.
